Two for the Road
by knk4891
Summary: He's running toward a dream. She's running away from her problems. He thinks she's a snob. She thinks he's obnoxious. They both desperately need to leave, but neither of them thought it would be with each other. One thing is for sure; spending all summer together in a car means that something has got to give.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm back!**

**I started writing this story over a year ago sitting my boring Astronomy class. I wouldn't let myself post it until I was done with my last multi-chapter story. As with all my stories, don't expect regular updates. I'll do what I can, but I've never been one to write and post consistently. **

**Anyway, this story takes place during the summer of 1993 (assuming the Chipmunks and Chipettes were 8/9 in 1983 when the series premiered). My goal is to make this feel like a teen comedy/romance/adventure movie of the time. So… we'll see.**

**The title "Two for the Road" is from a 1967 road trip movie starred Audrey Hepburn. I haven't seen the movie; it just appeared when I typed it into Google to see if anything else had the same name, which there is. So yeah, just wanted to tell you that.**

**This is rated T for language and adult themes. **

**Enough of my blabbing. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Chipmunks or Chipettes.**

* * *

Brittany decided she was done. There were officially no more tears to cry.

She left her room hours ago to get a change of scenery. She wasn't sure what time it was. 4 AM? Maybe 5? But Brittany did know that she was _supposed_ to be lying in the strong arms of Bart Fairington right now. Instead, she was curled up under her tattered lavender blanket on the hard porch swing that had made her butt go numb.

A warm wind tickled her nose and stung her swollen eyes. She shifted her body so that she was lying down sideways, the wooden swing rough against her wet face. She let out a shaky sigh and wondered, for the hundredth time, how her perfect life had gotten so horrible within a single night.

Brittany had been attracted to Bart for years. He had it all. Sexy tousled hair? Check. Flawless movie star face? Check. The body of a star athlete? Check. Awesome car and huge brick house in a fenced in community? Check. Outrageous popularity? _Double_ check. As far as Brittany was concerned, Bart was as amazing as she was. It was obvious they belonged together. So when he asked her out at the start of senior year, she didn't even bother playing her usual game of hard-to-get. She said yes instantly.

Being with Bart made her last year of high school incredible. They had so much fun together, sneaking kisses between classes and holding hands down the hallway. Brittany adored being half of the "It" couple at school. Brittany was the queen of that school, and Bart was her king. They ruled together. They were unstoppable. Brittany was probably the only girl in her class who _didn't_ want to graduate in June; she wanted to run that school forever.

However, there was one little glitch in the fairy tale. Bart wanted something Brittany just couldn't give him.

Despite rumors, speculations, and the fact that she could have any guy she wanted, Brittany Miller was still a virgin. She wanted so badly to give herself to Bart, but… she just couldn't. Every time things got hot and heavy, Brittany would come up with a lame excuse to kill the mood ("I'm too tired." "I have homework." "I have to pick up Miss Miller's foot cream at the drugstore before it closes.").

If they planned ahead of time, she would find a way out. They planned to hook up on Valentine's Day at Bart's house when his parents were out of town, but Brittany took a last minute baby-sitting job to get out of it, despite her severe lack of patience for children. Then they planned to try on prom night. Bart rented a hotel room and bought expensive champagne. But after only a sip of champagne and a minute of kissing, Brittany had faked a stomachache and asked to go home. She hadn't even taken her heels off.

Brittany wasn't sure why she wasn't able to give it up. It wasn't like she was a prude; she had to listen to her friends talk about their sexual experiences all the time, and it never bothered her. And she was good at pretty much everything she tried, so why would sex be any different? But something was just holding her back. She couldn't explain it, and whenever she tried, she just got a headache. So Brittany had just learned to live with the fact that she, for whatever reason, wasn't ready to have sex.

Bart said he was okay with not getting to "do it" yet, but he obviously wasn't. "You'd better give in before you guys go to college," her friends would say. Brittany knew they were right. Bart was an 18-year-old male, and if she didn't give him anything, he'd find someone who would. So she decided that tonight, the night following their high school graduation, would be the night. Her friend Courtney was having a big parent-free graduation bash at her mansion, and Brittany figured it would be the perfect time to surprise her boyfriend. Courtney had even offered a guest bedroom in a private part of the house for them to use. Everything was going to be perfect.

But it turned out that Bart wasn't the one who got a surprise that night. It was Brittany.

Yes, it was quite a surprise opening the door to Courtney's parents' room (which she thought was a bathroom in the dark hallway) to find Bart sticking his tongue in Missy Snootson's mouth while unhooking her bra. It certainly didn't help that Missy just happened to be Brittany's least favorite person on the planet.

Brittany must have yelped because both of their heads whipped toward the door. She vaguely remembered Bart's eyes widen and jaw drop. But the main thing she remembered was Missy's evil grin and the way she chirped, "Oh, hi Brittany!" as if she and Brittany were best friends who hadn't seen each other in a long time. She didn't even bother covering herself up or offering an apology. Just that stupid smile and a look that seemed to say _I'm better than you._

What happened next was a blur. Literally. Brittany's eyes were so full of tears that she couldn't see. Random images came to her; running down stairs, pushing through crowds of people, throwing up in Courtney's mother's rose bushes.

She did, however, clearly remember her sisters finding her a few minutes later, curled into a pathetic, sobbing ball next to her puddle of vomit. Eleanor was annoyed, thinking Brittany was a blubbering drunk. But Brittany hadn't had a drop of alcohol that night. She didn't bother correcting her sister because she was crying too hard to speak.

Brittany couldn't remember much about the ride home. She was shoved into a bathtub when they reached the house and Jeanette made her some hot chocolate that was still sitting untouched on her night stand. After her bath she went up to her room and cried some more, ignoring Eleanor's exasperated stares and Jeanette's concerned, "Are you okay, Britt?"

Bart hadn't even bothered to call. Not that she would have answered the phone anyway. But it would have at least meant that he felt bad about it.

But the worst part of this whole thing was that it was Brittany's fault. If she would have just slept with him earlier, he wouldn't have needed to hook up with Snootson. Brittany wondered how long they'd been going behind her back. Weeks? Months? She felt so stupid for...

Suddenly, the still night air was pierced by the slow creak of a door. Brittany looked toward the large white house next door where she heard the noise.

A shadowy figure was creeping around the Sevilles' front porch. Brittany's heart pounded as she frantically debated whether she should run inside to call 9-1-1 to report a burglary or remain still so he wouldn't see her.

The person walked closer and moved into the moon's pale spotlight. It wasn't a robber; just Alvin.

_Ugh._ She would have rather been in presence of a criminal.

As her heart beat returned to normal, Brittany watched Alvin through suspicious eyes. He was tip-toeing around and constantly looking over his shoulder like he was trying to avoid getting caught. He was dragging a big suitcase, his guitar case, and a gym bag that was so full it didn't zip all the way.

Alvin was notorious for sneaking back_ in_ his house at this hour, but sneaking out was a different story. And what was the deal with the heavy bags? And the guitar? He was up to something.

"Whatever," Brittany breathed, rolling on to her back and staring at a cobweb in the corner of the porch. She didn't care about Alvin. She had her own problems to worry about, like how to deal with everyone this summer. It was only a matter of time before everyone knew what happened at that party. She'd have to look at Snootson's ugly smirk all summer long, prancing along the beach in her frilly little bikini and hanging all over Bart, who was supposed to be a lifeguard there for the next three months. Brittany could see it now; the stares, the pointing, the whispering about how much of a loser she acted at that stupid party. Brittany's felt a slight pain in her hands and realized it was her nails digging into her palms from the fists she was making.

The Chipette titled her head back, looking at Alvin upside down. She had never seen him move slower. Each step was silent and full of caution.

_Don't pay attention to him,_ she told herself. _Who cares?_

But she did. Not because she cared about Alvin. She was just a nosy bitch.

So Brittany sat up, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and smoothed down her hair. Maybe this would at least get her mind off Bart and Missy for a few minutes. She made her way next door, the dewy grass tickling her bare feet.

She managed to make it to the Sevilles' yard without Alvin seeing her (he was too focused on watching the front door to notice anything else). He was unlocking the door to his candy apple red convertible when Brittany tapped him on the shoulder.

Alvin gasped and whipped around, shining a flashlight in her eyes.

"Going somewhere?" Brittany asked. She sounded pretty smug for someone being blinded.

Alvin lowered the light, and Brittany smirked when she took in his wide eyes and lips parted in panic. It wasn't an expression Alvin Seville usually wore, and seeing the self-proclaimed "Mr. Cool" get all jumpy was satisfying.

He nervously glanced at his porch again, and then turned back to Brittany. Then, out of desperation, he slowly said, "Brittany, listen to me. This is not real. You are dreaming. You're, uh, sleepwalking. Yeah, that's it. Sleepwalking. Go back to bed and forget this ever happened."

Brittany put her hands on her hips and gave him her best Are-You-Kidding-Me? Look. "Do you honestly think that's going to work?" she asked. "What are you, eight?"

Alvin sighed in defeat and dropped his belongings to the ground. "Look, just get out of here, okay? Pretend you didn't see anything."

Part of Brittany was willing to do just that. Alvin was not her concern. She could go back home and continue wallowing in self-pity and planning how she was going to live in her bedroom until she had to leave for college in the fall.

However, Brittany realized she had power here. She had Alvin begging, and she couldn't just let that opportunity slip away, no matter what kind of mood she was in.

"Please," Alvin, the desperation in his voice music to Brittany's ears. "Just go, okay?" Then he frowned. "Wait a minute. What are you doing out here anyway?"

"I was on my porch because I couldn't sleep," she said casually, hoping she wouldn't have to elaborate. She quickly changed the focus back on him. "But your story seems _much_ more interesting."

"It's none of your business." Alvin glanced at his sports watch, obviously eager to leave.

"It's Dave's business," Brittany pointed out. "I could always just go inside and ask him—"

"Why do you care so much anyway?" Alvin asked impatiently.

"I don't," she replied with a shrug. "But you'd do the same thing to me."

Alvin opened his mouth to respond, but quickly closed it.

Brittany grinned. "Gotcha there, Seville."

Alvin rolled his eyes and muttered, "I don't have to take this." But before he could reach for his car key (attached to a key ring with a house key and a surfboard key chain) that was still in the lock, Brittany was faster. She swiped the keys and held them up like a trophy.

"Brittany!" Alvin hissed. "What the hell?"

Brittany's grin only widened when she jingled the keys teasingly.

Alvin's blue eyes narrowed. "And you say_ I_ act like an 8-year-old."

"Just tell me where you're going," Brittany said confidently. It felt amazing to be making_ his_ life a living hell for once. She couldn't even begin to count the amount of times he had picked on her like this.

Alvin exhaled loudly through his nose and stared at his car, clearly debating what he should do. Finally he rolled his eyes and said, "You can't tell anyone."

"Fine," Brittany agreed.

"Okay," Alvin sighed. "I'm running away."

Brittany snorted. "Well duh. I could have guessed that much. Where are you going?"

For the first time since Brittany had arrived, Alvin grinned. "Everywhere," he replied.

Brittany frowned. "Everywhere? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Dave wants me to go to college in the fall." Alvin said the word "college" as if he was talking about road kill. "But I can't go to college. I need to be on stage preforming. And Dave refuses to help me get a record deal or anything, even though that's his _freaking job_. He wants me to go to school for a few years first. Says he wants me to see what else is out there. I guess he's forgotten what I did the first thirteen years of my life."

Brittany blinked a few times, taken aback by Alvin's bitterness. Right before seventh grade started, Dave strongly suggested that the boys and the Chipettes take time off touring and recording to concentrate on school. Jeanette, Eleanor, Simon, and Theodore weren't too heartbroken about it. They liked singing and playing instruments, but they had other talents and interests. But being on stage was all Brittany had. She _lived_ for feeling that hot spotlight on her face, hearing her voice echo through stadiums, and seeing thousands of people smiling and screaming in the audience; an audience that had actually paid money to listen to her sing and watch her dance. She put everything she had into performing, and when it was taken away, Brittany felt like she lost the only thing that truly mattered to her.

Brittany had tried to fill that void with school plays, choir, and cheerleading, but it wasn't the same. Nobody was holding up signs with her name on it. There were no chants of "Chip-ettes! Chip-ettes! Chip-ettes!" Sure, when she was at the top of the pyramid or reciting dialogue from a script, she was at the center of attention. But when it came down to it, Brittany was no different from any other high school girl. As much as Brittany_ hated_ admitting it, she knew that thousands of girls her age across the country were cheerleaders or had solos in choir. But no one else could say they were the lead singer for the Chipettes.

It had just occurred to her that Alvin had probably felt the same way she had all these years. Music was his life too. He loved it as much as Brittany did, maybe even more. He had sports to fall back on, and did well for his size, but it was nothing like being the lead singer of Alvin and the Chipmunks. But unlike Brittany, he hadn't been able to face reality and realize he had to move on. He managed to pull off being a singing Chipmunk as a kid, but now? What chance did he really have as a serious singer?

"So," Brittany said slowly, trying to comprehend everything. "How is running away going to help?"

"I'm going to travel across the country and perform," Alvin told her just as slowly, as if she was a kindergartener.

"Where?"

"I don't know!" Alvin said, throwing his hands up. "Anywhere! Everywhere! To whoever is willing to listen." He sighed and looked back at his house again. "Look, I'd love to stand around and talk about this some more, but I really have to get out of here." He reached for his keys but Brittany pulled them back at the last second. "Are you kidding me?" the impatient teenager whined. "Come on! _Why_ are you doing this?"

But Brittany wasn't listening. She thought about what Alvin had said. _Anywhere. Everywhere._ Wherever those places were, they _weren't here_.

"I already told you everything you wanted to know!" There was urgency in his whisper. "What more do you want?"

"Take me with you," she blurted.

The worry on Alvin's face disappeared in a flash, leaving a blank stare in its place.

"What?"

Brittany stood a little straighter and lifted her chin. "You heard me. Take me with you."

Alvin stared at her for a few moments before letting out a laugh. He put his hand over his mouth to quiet himself, but his snickers were loud and clear to Brittany.

"I don't see what's so funny," Brittany said in a clipped voice.

He looked up at her with slightly wet eyes. "Come on, Brittany. You can't be serious."

Brittany crossed her arms, gripping the car keys tighter. _Was _she serious?

"I'm not kidding," she said before she could stop herself. "I want to come."

Alvin's smile faded and the realization of her demands finally seemed to sink in. "But… _why?_"

"I just… I just do, okay?" she huffed. She held the keys up, making the jingle as she dangled them at Alvin's eye level. "So how about it?"

"Ha!" Alvin said with an incredulous expression. "Are you nuts? No way! I'm a one man show, babe."

"First of all," Brittany said, "don't call me babe. I am _not_ your babe. Second of all, I don't want to come to perform with you. I just need to get out of town for a few months."

"_Why?"_

"I. Just. Do." Brittany jingled the keys louder. "Tell me I can go, or I wake Dave."

Alvin cursed under his breath and stared up at the dusky pink sky, acknowledging that he was losing time. Then he looked at her with furious eyes. "I hate you."

But Brittany only grinned. She had won.

"Hurry up and get your stuff," Alvin whispered. "Bring all the cash you have. We leave in five minutes."

"Five minutes?" Brittany shrieked, earning a panicked "SHHHH!" from Alvin. "I can't get ready in five minutes!"

"Fine!" Alvin spat. "Seven minutes!"

"Fifteen," Brittany replied.

"Eight," Alvin said.

"Thirteen."

"Nine."

"Ten." Brittany paused, and then grinned. "Wait a minute. I can take all the time I want. I have the keys." She slid the key ring on her index finger and twirled it around.

"Fine, ten minutes! Whatever!" Alvin conceded. "But if you don't hurry up, neither of us are going anywhere!"

Without another word, Brittany sprinted toward her house, trying to ignore how dirty and grass-stained her feet were going to be from running around barefoot outside. She nearly burst through the door, her veins flowing with adrenaline; crazy, stupid adrenaline. At the last moment, she remembered everyone was sleeping. So she quietly opened the front door and tip-toed upstairs to her bedroom.

Once she was there, Brittany dragged her pink suitcase out of the closet and went to her dresser. She pulled out all kinds of different clothes; t-shirts, tank tops, shorts, skirts, underwear, bras, socks, tights, sweaters, swimsuits… everything. She shoved it all in her suitcase, along with a few pairs of shoes, and then filled her make-up bag with everything laying on her vanity. She didn't even have to look to know that all her mascara, blush, eye-shadow, lipstick, and eye liner would be there.

Then she dumped out everything that was still inside her backpack she used for school and crept into the bathroom to gather her toothbrush, toothpaste shampoo, conditioner, hair spray, mousse, comb, hair brush, hair dryer, barrettes, scrunchies, bows, lotion, three bottles of perfume, deodorant, and a half empty box of tampons. With some pushing, Brittany managed to stuff everything in her backpack. She hurried back to her room, and according to the wristwatch she had just put on, only seven minutes had passed. That was _by far_ the fastest Brittany had _ever_ packed in her entire 18 years of living on the planet.

After quickly changing into denim shorts and a pink tank top that ended right about her naval, Brittany saw some magazines on her night stand and decided to grab those too. But when she did, her hand brushed across a framed photograph of Eleanor, Jeanette, and her smiling at the camera after Brittany was crowned Homecoming Queen last Fall.

_Shit._

Brittany instantly felt a twinge of guilt. It wasn't her sisters' or Miss Miller's fault that Bart had cheated on her and she had to run away. They would be heartbroken if she left for the entire summer.

"But I'll be heartbroken if I stay," Brittany told herself. With that thought branded in her mind, she ripped out a piece of paper from one of the notebooks that she had emptied from her backpack a few minutes before and grabbed an ink pen.

_Dear Miss Miller, Jeanette, and Eleanor,_

_I'm really sorry to tell you this, but I have to leave town for a while. It's a long story. I'm sure you'll figure out why eventually, just by what people will say over the summer. Just know that I can't stay here. Don't worry about me, I'm not travelling alone. I don't know where I'm going, or when I'll be back, but I'll call you soon. I'm really sorry, but I have to do this. Like I said, don't worry. I love you all._

_Xoxo,_

_Brittany_

Brittany sighed and folded the note with shaking hands. She willed herself not to cry for the hundredth time that night.

She walked to her jewelry box, the one with the ballerina on top that Miss Miller had given her for her 10th birthday. At the very bottom of the box was her money stash that she had been building for years. Not having time to count it, she grabbed the wad of cash and put it in her purse.

Her suitcase was too full to shut, so she had to fit a few pairs of underwear and socks in the side pockets of her backpack. She looked at the clock and saw that fifteen minutes had went by since she left Alvin. Oh well. She glanced at the keys shining on her mattress. It wasn't like he could leave without her.

Brittany picked up her bags and the keys, but came to an abrupt halt when she reached her bedroom door.

_Am I really doing this?_

Missy Snootson was Brittany's least favorite person ever, but Alvin Seville was a close second. He was so obnoxious and smug. Not to mention, there'd probably be tension between them from last year's events; events that she had been doing a pretty good job of forgetting about until now. Was she really willing to spend a whole summer travelling in that little car with him?

What was she _doing?_

But what other choice did she have? She couldn't stay here all summer. There was just no way. And it's not like she could go anywhere by herself. Alvin was her ticket out of here.

Besides, she had made it clear to Alvin that she was going. She wasn't going to back out of it now. She'd never live it down.

Taking a deep breath, Brittany pushed the door open and walked down the stairs. She placed the note on the kitchen counter where she was sure her family would see it, slipped into her sandals by the welcome mat, and walked out the front door.

Her heart pounded as she lugged her heavy bags toward the Seville house. She didn't see Alvin; the car was still there, but he was gone.

Brittany began to panic. Had he left and taken a different car? Did he decide the trip wasn't worth it if she came? Was this whole thing just some big prank?

But when Brittany walked to the other side of the car, she saw Alvin sitting on the ground, leaning on the front tire by the passenger's door.

He looked up at her and glared. "It's about time."

Brittany ignored him as she tossed him those precious car keys at last. "Open the car, my arms are about to fall off."

Alvin muttered some obscenities as he unlocked the car. They silently loaded their bags in the backseats. When they were done, Alvin climbed into the driver's seat and Brittany settled into the passenger's. Alvin turned to his companion and asked, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

_No._

"Yes," Brittany replied firmly. She reached into her purse and put on her sunglasses, despite the lack of sun. "Now let's get out of here before we get caught."

Alvin turned the key to start the engine and immediately put the car in reverse. In seconds, they were speeding down the street.

"No turning back now," he said confidently, probably trying to convince himself that everything was going to be okay even though Brittany was tagging along.

"Right," Brittany agreed. It felt like the strong voice was coming from someone else. "No turning back." She folded her arms across her chest, propped her feet on the dash, and refused to look behind her.

* * *

**A/N: Bart is based on the guy Brittany had a crush on in Legend of Sleeping Brittany. I think he's supposed to be older than the Chipmunks/ettes in that episode, but I decided to make him in their grade for this story. The last name is made up, obviously. **

**Sorry that was kind of long, but I wanted to get the information across. Thanks for reading! Reviews are always appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Finally got it posted! Hope you like it.**

* * *

Brittany stared out the window, watching as their convertible passed each car along the highway. They'd been on the road for almost five hours, and Brittany hadn't spoken the Alvin since their conversation they had a minute after they left.

"So how much cash did you bring?" Alvin had asked eagerly as he turned off their street.

"I don't know," Brittany told him. "I didn't have time to count. I just grabbed what I could."

"Count it."

Brittany didn't like being bossed around, but she was curious about the amount of money too. So she reached into her purse and pulled out the wrinkled bills.

Moments later, she froze. That couldn't be right…

"How much is there?" Alvin asked.

Brittany swallowed down a squeal of horror. She counted again.

_Shit._

"It's not a big deal," Brittany said, shoving the money back into her bag. "I brought my credit card—"

"A credit card that can be tracked and cancelled when Dave and Miss Miller find out you're gone," Alvin said. Brittany would have been impressed by this good point if she didn't hate him. "We'll have to do everything with cash. Untraceable cash. So how much did you bring?"

Brittany stared straight ahead and watched their vehicle approach a station wagon that looked older than Miss Miller. The more she thought about it, the more her small amount of money made sense. She _tried _not to dip into her cash stash, but it was impossible not to! She couldn't turn down those awesome hot pink sunglasses at PacSun, or those itty bitty denim shorts at Tommy Hilfiger that made her butt look super cute. Between those and recent purchases of new bikinis and bottles of tanning oil, her unimpressive cash total wasn't all that surprising.

"Brittany!" Alvin snapped. "Hello? How much did you bring?"

"Eighty-four dollars," Brittany muttered.

Alvin blinked. "What did you say?"

"Eighty-four dollars," she said louder.

"ARE YOU KIDDING?" Alvin barked. "Eighty-four—Brittany! What the hell? Why even bother coming? Do you know how far we're going to get with _eighty-four dollars?_"

Brittany whipped her head toward him and gave that loudmouth the nastiest glare she could muster. "Well _excuse_ me for splurging a bit on my new summer wardrobe! Besides, maybe if you would have given me more time to get ready, I could have found more money!"

Brittany didn't remember much of the conversation after that. It mostly consisted of more yelling, until finally Alvin said, "Well it won't matter soon anyway, because once I find some gigs, money won't be an issue."

The sad thing was that Brittany was pretty sure Alvin believed every word.

After that, Alvin turned on the radio, and aside from his annoying drumming on the steering wheel and occasion whistling to a song's chorus, the only sound in the car was music.

Brittany's forehead rested against the warm glass and she closed her eyes. She had been able to get about an hour of sleep during the ride, if that. The rest of the time she had just stared at the billboard-lined highway and tried not to let her mind drift back to the whole Bart and Missy thing. Everyone in town had probably heard about it by now. They probably knew that Brittany acted like a total spazz and threw up in the rose bushes. Why had she done that? That wasn't Brittany Miller at all! The Brittany Miller everyone knew and loved would have marched right up to Bart and given him a piece of her mind. She would have yelled at Snootson too, and then set up a plan to humiliate her sometime during the night.

But _no_. Brittany had to run away like a complete _dork_ and cry and puke in front of hundreds of people.

She squeezed her eyes tighter, and managed to block the thoughts out. Her breathing became steady. Her body relaxed. The California heat felt good on her face. The world slowly started to disappear…

Suddenly loud guitar music filled the car. Brittany flinched at the loud noise and bumped her head against the window.

"OW!" She glared at the smug driver to her left. She wasn't sure what made her head hurt worse; the horrid sounds coming from the speakers or the bruise forming on the side of her head. "What the hell, Alvin?!"

"It's the latest Nirvana album!" Alvin shouted over Kurt Cobain. "Just got it a few weeks ago!"

"I'm surprised you actually bought something with all your amazing money-saving skills!" Brittany yelled.

"WHAT? CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

Brittany turned the volume control all the way down until the car was silent. "Why do you have to be so obnoxious?" she demanded. "I was _trying_ to _sleep_!"

"And I was _trying _to listen to _Nirvana_," Alvin fired back. He turned the volume up again and yelled, "Ya know, at first I wasn't a fan of grunge, but it's not so bad!"

Brittany grimaced. She hated grunge and the hideous style that went with it.

Flannel. Grease. _Seattle_. It was enough to make her shudder.

"TURN IT DOWN!" Brittany screeched.

Alvin turned it up even more, until the windows began to shake.

"IF YOU DON'T TURN IT DOWN, I'LL CALL DAVE AND TELL HIM WHERE YOU ARE!"

Alvin just grinned. "Go ahead! Good luck finding a ride home after I leave you at the payphone!" He chuckled. "That's not gonna work anymore, Brittany. You lost any power you had the second we pulled out of my driveway."

Brittany's left eye twitched. No. No, no, _no_. This was _not_ happening. She didn't let anyone push her around or tell her what to do; _especially_ not Alvin Seville.

"No power, huh?" When Alvin faced forward, she rolled down the passenger's window slightly. Then, in one swift motion, she ejected the cassette from the stereo and tossed it out of the car.

"BRITTANY!" Alvin yelled. They watched a pick-up truck run over the tape in the rearview mirror. "WHAT THE HELL?"

The Chipette turned to him, her heart swelling with pride. She was_ such_ a badass. "I have more power than you think," Brittany reminded him with a very satisfied grin. "And don't you forget it."

"You know," Alvin barked, "I'd ask you to buy me another one, but you're too fucking poor."

Brittany titled her head. "But I'm sure you'll be able to buy a new one with all the money you're going to make during this little adventure."

Alvin lifted his chin with confidence. "Damn straight."

Brittany narrowed her eyes. He was _so_ lame.

"So do you even know where we're going?" she asked. He hadn't looked at a map the whole trip.

Alvin adjusted his Ray Bans. "Life's a journey, not a destination."

She rolled her eyes. That was Alvin's "cool way" of telling her that he had no idea where they were headed.

"Great!" Brittany said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm stuck on a highway with _you_ of all people, with nothing to do and nowhere to go." She examined an oily strand of hair resting on her shoulder and made a face. "Plus I need a shower."

"Quit being such a baby," Alvin told her. "You were the one who wanted to tag along so badly."

"Well_ excuse_ me for thinking you actually had a plan," she snapped.

Alvin snorted. "Please. You knew what you were getting yourself into."

Brittany sulked by crossing her arms and staring out the window. She clearly_ hadn't _known what she was getting herself into. It served her right for not thinking things through.

"You know," Alvin pointed out, "we've only been on the road for five hours. Are you going to yell and whine the whole tune?"

"Are you going to act like a jackass the whole time?" Brittany asked.

"Of course." Alvin smirked.

"Then yes, I'm going to be whining and yelling a lot."

A long silence went by, and Brittany spent most of that time wishing she would have packed her Walkman to block out Alvin's annoying voice.

"So why did you want to come anyway?" Alvin asked as he switched lanes, passing yet another car at an illegal speed.

"It's none of your business," Brittany replied, not moving her eyes from the window.

"You don't think I deserve to know?"

Brittany finally turned to him and gave him the most disgusted look she could muster. "_No_." Like she was ever going to tell Alvin that her boyfriend cheated on her with her worst enemy at the biggest party of the year. He'd never let her live that down.

"Whatever," Alvin said. "You'll tell me eventually. It's not like you have anyone else to talk to."

Brittany opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by a loud growl that came from her stomach.

Alvin snickered. "Sounds like someone is hungry."

"No," Brittany said, her face flushed. But her stomach betrayed her as another low growl came again. She hadn't eaten anything since that handful of pretzels at the party last night, and she had puked that up. It made sense that she was starving, but she wasn't about to beg Alvin for anything.

Suddenly the car jutted into the right lane, causing several cars behind them to honk. Alvin cut off even more people as he went into the further right lane and sped up the exit ramp.

"What was that?" Brittany shrieked. Her heart was pounding. "We could have been killed!"

"Maybe," Alvin agreed. There was no concern or worry on his face. He was acting like he was leisurely looking for a parking spot rather than cutting people off full speed on a crowded California highway. "But then you would have had to wait another ten miles until the next exit to eat."

"You could have at least warned me."

"We're getting on the exit now, Brittany."

She glared at him. "Very funny."

"Glad you think so," he said with a grin.

Alvin pulled into the first lot off the highway, which surrounded a small diner.

"We're eating here?" Brittany wrinkled her nose, taking in the dirty windows, the chipped paint on the building, and the ancient-looking sign covered in bird poop.

"Don't judge a book by its cover," Alvin said, once again stealing a quote to look wise.

Brittany stepped out of the car and stretched her stiff limbs. She breathed in deeply to get some fresh air, but coughed when exhaust from all the trucks hit her lungs. Lovely.

Alvin and Brittany made their way inside. The diner was too hot and smelled like stale coffee, burnt eggs, and old people. The white tile floor was stained and scuffed, and giant noisy fan in the corner was beyond useless.

Brittany put her hands on her hips and looked at Alvin. "Looks like the inside matches the outside after all."

Alvin lifted up his sunglasses so that they sat on the top of his head. "Well you'll just have to get used to it. We can't afford to eat at nice places, so you'll just have to stop being so much of a snob and—"

"I am not a snob!" Brittany argued.

Alvin stared at her for a moment before he bent over and started laughing.

Brittany stomped her foot. "I'm not!" she insisted.

She was pretty sure she saw tears in his eyes when he straightened up. "Not a snob!" he chuckled. "Oh, that's rich. _That is rich!_"

"I hate you," Brittany muttered, pushing past him to find the bathrooms.

After using the filthy single-stalled restroom (an experience that required lots of toilet paper to be on the toilet seat before Brittany used it, and nearly a gallon of that cheap pink soap to wash her hands), the two sat in an empty booth and watched as a bored, overweight woman with an ugly grey perm shuffled over to take their order. She practically threw the menus at them.

Alvin ordered some huge pancake meal, but Brittany stared at the menu in horror. This wasn't _food_. This was all just fat and grease and oil that was bad for her skin and thighs!

"What do you want?" The waitress asked impatiently. Her voice was so rough and deep that it hurt Brittany's ears.

"Um…" Brittany desperately scanned the menu for something that wouldn't make her bloat. "Water and a fruit salad."

"That all?" The grouchy lady asked, scribbling the order down on her notepad.

"That's all," Brittany confirmed, ignoring the protesting growl from her stomach.

The waitress walked away and yelled their orders to the people at behind the counter. Brittany examined her fingernails, trying to ignore the fact that Alvin was staring at her. After a while, she couldn't.

"What?" she spat.

"Fruit and water?" Alvin questioned. "I thought you were hungry."

"Mind your own business."

They didn't speak for a while. The unrestored 50's style jukebox played an old Buddy Holly song. Coffee mugs clanked and silverware scraped against plates and bowls. The old men at the counter were loudly bickering about some baseball game that happened thirty years ago.

"Do you think you're fat or something?" Alvin's voice made Brittany flinch.

"What?" she screeched. "Don't be ridiculous! Of course I don't think I'm fat. I'm perfect. I just want to stay that way."

Alvin just rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"Well I can't exactly exercise while sitting in that stupid little car all day," Brittany pointed out. "So I have to start eating even better than before to make up for it."

"You were the one who _wanted_ to sit in that stupid little car all day," Alvin reminded her. "Stop trying to blame me for all this."

Brittany was about to say something when their food was set out in front of them. Alvin dug right into his pancakes and seemed to forget all about Brittany, so she didn't bother coming up with a response.

She stared at the mushy berries and bruised apple slices in her bowl. The she watched Alvin pour thick maple syrup on his stack of fluffy golden pancakes. The sugary smell his Brittany's nostrils and made her mouth water. She looked down before Alvin could notice her gaping, and speared a slimy piece of banana with her fork.

"How's the fruit?" Alvin asked a minute later, his mouth full of pancake. His taunting eyes mocked her as she forced herself to swallow the tasteless strawberries she had just put in her mouth.

"I'm choosing the next place we eat at," was her answer.

"Fine," Alvin said. He took a long swig of orange juice. "You can pay for it too."

"So that means you're paying for this then?"

"Yeah, I figured we could take turns or something. And I picked it out, so I might as well pay for this one."

Brittany looked around the old, boring diner. The 1950's posters were peeling off the wall and a hunched over man in the corner was using brown water to mop the floor.

"When did you become so cheap?" Brittany asked. It wasn't really supposed to offend him; it was a serious question. He was constantly blowing his money on expensive things. For prom, he'd rented a red carpet and a matching red limousine for him and his date to make their entrance. Rumor had it that she had originally chosen a violet dress for the event, but Alvin bought her a red one to wear instead, to match his whole theme. Alvin Seville was not known for being frugal.

"Since I know we need to start saving our money if we want to make it across the country and back," Alvin said as if it was obvious.

That's when Brittany realized how serious he was about this whole thing. This was a guy who loved to splurge, probably even more than Brittany did because the Seville's had more money than Brittany's family did. But the fact that Alvin was actually willing to conserve money by eating in this dump so he could complete this trip showed Brittany how important this was to him. It was almost endearing.

Almost.

Brittany spent the rest of breakfast making herself eat her disgusting meal and trying not to stare at Alvin's in envy. Once they were both finished, Alvin swaggered up to the counter and leaned against it. A lot of people stared, and Alvin probably thought they were looking at him because he looked cool, but Brittany figured it was because no one under the age of sixty ever stepped foot in there.

"So are there any places a guy can sing around here?" Alvin casually asked the workers behind the counter.

The large crabby lady who took their order blinked. "Pardon?"

"Oh, you know," Alvin went on, "a karaoke place, open night at a bar, a singing contest?"

"No," the woman said, along with a cook, two other waitresses, and a few elderly people who were sipping their prune juice from cracked glasses.

"Oh," Alvin said, looking slightly taken aback. He cleared his throat. "Okay then." He turned to Brittany. "Well, looks like we better keep driving to find a gig."

"Yay," Brittany deadpanned.

She followed Alvin outside, and reluctantly climbed into the car. It felt like a prison and it had only been a few hours. How was she going to do this for a whole_ summer_?

_Just remember why you're doing this,_ Brittany told herself. _You can't be home right now. This is the right choice. It just has to be._

But as soon as Alvin turned on the radio and started bobbing his head to another ugly grunge song, she wasn't so sure.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Late as always, but it's here! Hope you all enjoy; please review, if you can!**

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Brittany was feeling more miserable every mile. She was hungry, thirsty, sleepy (it was almost midnight), and for once she was actually _avoiding _the mirror. Most of her make-up had probably smeared all over the place by now and she didn't even want to _think_ about what her hair looked like. She had opted for sunglasses and a simple braid in an attempt to hide her rare less-than-impressive appearance. Maybe next time they stopped somewhere, she'd search for a cute hat or something.

Every fiber in her petite body was telling her to just quit this and go home. Sure, she'd be depressed, but at least she'd be clean, full, and, best of all, not around Alvin.

She hated the way he had to hum along with every song on the radio (and he knew _every_ song). She hated how he looked so relaxed and happy when she felt so horrible. She hated how he was always driving so fast, causing them to constantly be seconds away from death. But most of all, she hated the fact the fact that he talked.

"You've been quiet," he'd say every hour.

"I have a lot on my mind," was her usual clipped response.

"Care to share?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I hate you."

And that would be that.

Until a few minutes ago, when Alvin came up with a response.

"You know," he said slyly, "you didn't always feel that way."

Brittany closed her eyes and groaned. She knew this would be brought up eventually.

Last summer, Brittany and Alvin had sort of a… _thing_. They weren't definitely weren't dating or anything; they weren't even _friends_. It was mostly just them sneaking around and making out in random closets, cars, hallways, and abandoned buildings. As soon as Brittany found out Bart liked her (a few weeks before school started), she put a stop to it. Alvin didn't seem too broken up about it; apparently the next day he was fooling around with Vanessa Kissinger in the bowling alley parking lot.

"If you're referring to the little…" Brittany searched for the right word, "_thing_ we did last year, that was just purely physical and you know it."

Alvin looked at her and turned his face into a pout. "Oh, Brittany, you mean you didn't like me during all that?"

"Like I said," she turned away from him and looked out the window. "Purely physical."

She heard Alvin chuckle beside her, but she continued to face the window. The sky was black; the only thing she could see was short, silver railing lit by the golden lights that lined the highway.

The events from the night before kept coming back to her, as if someone was constantly pressing a rewind button in her mind. She kept seeing Bart's pale, shocked face, and Missy's evil snarl. Why would he choose Snootson over her? Brittany was so much prettier, way more stylish, and a lot more fun to hang out with. The only thing Missy had over Brittany was that she was willing to have sex with Bart. Well, it wasn't like Brittany wasn't willing; she just hadn't been ready yet. But Bart should have known that she was worth waiting for, that he didn't need to settle for some cheap little—

"Well, this is it!" Alvin announced.

Brittany had been thinking so much about Bart and that stupid slut Missy that she hadn't even realized they were off the highway. They were pulling into the parking lot of a dumpy motel. Actually, according to the flickering neon sign, it was a _Moe_.

"You can't be serious!" Brittany stared at the filthy building in horror.

"Yeah, well, sorry we don't have enough cash for the Four Seasons," Alvin retorted. He pulled into an empty parking space between a dusty, dented pick-up truck and an ancient station wagon with a cracked windshield. Saying that Alvin's shiny red convertible stood out from the crowd was an understatement.

"I'm going to get us a room," Alvin said. He started to get out of the car, but paused. He looked at Brittany and he snatched the keys out of the ignition like he thought she was going to drive off and leave him there or something.

Brittany snorted. "Nice to know you can trust me."

"Please." Alvin rolled his eyes. "Like you wouldn't do the same thing."

"Whatever." Brittany folded her arms across her chest. "Just get a good room." She looked at the burnt out sign and cringed. "Or at least the best room you can."

"Right away, your highness," Alvin muttered before slamming the door. Brittany just smiled. She liked being reminded that she should be treated like the princess she was, sarcasm or not.

Brittany passed the time by giving imaginary make-overs to the people going in and out of their rooms. The fat guy with the trucker hat could use a shave and a new wardrobe. A frizzy-haired girl about Brittany's age was in desperate need of some lipstick and conditioner. Then there was the woman who may or may not have been a prostitute who should have lost the bright blue eye shadow and dark red lipstick to go for a more natural look.

God, where were they anyway? This was like, the lowest of low.

Suddenly Alvin's face appeared in her window, making her gasp. He held up a single brass key. "Let's go."

Brittany groaned as she slid out of the car, her muscles feeling tight as she stretched her legs out in front of her.

"Where are we anyway?" she asked. "Like... Arizona or something?"

"Northern California, I think," Alvin said, unloading a suitcase from the trunk.

Brittany frowned. "You mean we've been driving all day and all night at illegal speeds, and we're _still_ in the same state?"

"Well—"

"And why the_ hell_ would you drive _north_?" Brittany went on, throwing her hands up in frustration. "Why wouldn't you go _west?_"

"What do I look like, Lois and Clark?" Alvin snapped. "I don't have a fucking compass!"

"_Louis_ and Clark," Brittany corrected. She hated history, but even _she_ knew that. "And there are plenty of signs on the road to tell you where you're going!"

"Well then maybe _you_ should have said something!" He shouted, taking a step closer.

"I SHOULDN'T HAVE HAD TO!" Brittany stepped closer as well. "_You're_ the one who is supposed to know where we're going!"

"I NEVER SAID THAT!"

"WELL YOU MADE IT SEEM THAT WAY!"

"DID NOT!" He sounded like a kindergartener. "I TOLD YOU THAT I WAS JUST GOING TO GO ANYWHERE!"

"HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO—"

"Hey, keep it down over there!" A voice shouted. Alvin and Brittany turned to see the heavily made up woman that Brittany had seen earlier. She was leaning over the driver's window of a silver car. "Some of us are trying to work here!"

Well that answered Brittany's hooker question.

"You were the one who wanted to come on this trip," Alvin reminded her. "This is _my_ thing. You're just along for the ride for some reason. So you can't tell me what to do."

Brittany put her hands on her hips. "I'm not telling you what to do! I think it's stupid that we just drove north of all directions. What the hell is north?"

"Well, believe it or not," Alvin said, pushing past her, "I don't give a fuck what you think."

"Same here!" Brittany snapped. She yanked her suitcase and backpack out of the car and closed the door with a slam before following Alvin to a scuffed door with a crooked number 5 nailed to it.

Alvin unlocked it and turned on the dim lamp sitting on a nightstand. They were hit with smells of alcohol and mold.

"So much for getting a good room," Brittany muttered, taking in the shaggy green carpet and stained walls.

"All the rooms look like this," Alvin replied. He dropped his bag to the floor. "Look, I'm not exactly thrilled about staying in this dump either, but we have to save our money."

"Yeah, well I…" she trailed off. She had been so focused on the disgustingness of the room that she hadn't noticed the most disturbing detail of all until that moment. "Uh… Alvin?"

"What?"

She was trying so hard not to explode. "Why is there only one bed?"

"Obvious reasons," Alvin shrugged.

"EW!" Brittany screeched. "OH MY GOD!"

"What? No!" Alvin sighed. "Are you kidding? I got it because it was cheaper. Duh." He shut the door and turned on the TV. "God, Brittany. Get your mind out of the gutter, will ya?"

"I liked you better when you spent money like an NBA wife," Brittany told him.

"I liked you better when you weren't talking," Alvin said without missing a beat.

"HA!" Brittany let out a humorless laugh. "No you didn't! You hate silence."

"I make exceptions for you," he said in a sugary sweet voice. He pressed the buttons on the television with no response. "Figures that the stupid TV doesn't work."

Brittany opened her suitcase and pulled out the first set of pajamas she could find. "I'm going to take a shower," she announced.

Alvin ignored her, continuing to fiddle with the TV. Brittany stepped into the tiny bathroom with a huff.

She hated this. She hated be dirty. She hated Alvin. She hated this closet-sized bathroom that smelled like pee. She hated the stained yellow shower curtain and the unflattering single florescent light. She hated that the stupid door wouldn't lock. She hated that…

"AHHHH!" Brittany stumbled backwards and tripped over the brown rug, landing hard on her butt.

The door opened and Alvin rushed in.

"What's wrong?" Alvin asked, looking around.

Brittany whimpered and scooted further away from the tub. Alvin looked harder, spotting the big, ugly, black spider crawling up the curtain. Brittany shivered. It was beyond gross.

Alvin swore under his breath, grabbed a wad of toilet paper, smashed the spider, tossed it in the metal trash can, and left the room without looking at her or saying a word.

Brittany instantly hated herself for the meltdown. The last thing she wanted was to look pathetic in front of Alvin. She had spent too much time trying to prove that she could handle herself on this trip.

However, she spent most of her cold shower trying not to break out in tears. Self-doubt was not her thing, but she was seriously wondering if she could handle this stupid road trip thing after all. She was already fed up with everything, and it had been less than 24 hours. Maybe she should find a Greyhound bus and go home.

_No,_ she thought when she turned off the water. She stepped out of the tub and wiped the fog off the mirror. "You are Brittany Miller," she whispered to her reflection, "and you can do anything."

She got dressed (unfortunately, thanks to the nasty room, she didn't feel that much cleaner) and stepped into the main room. Alvin was writing something on a napkin. Next to him were a pile of brochures he must have picked up from the motel lobby when she was in the bathroom.

Brittany sat on the very edge of the bed, making the old mattress creak. "Aren't you going to shower?" she asked him. She wasn't close enough to smell him, but he had to be feeling gross by now.

Alvin picked up another brochure and wrote something else down. "Obviously I'm going to take a shower," Alvin told her. "I'm just not doing it here."

She frowned. "Where else are you planning on doing it then?"

"I don't know," Alvin said without looking up. "Just not here. You've seen that bathroom. There's got to be somewhere better."

"You just told me that all the other rooms look like ours," Brittany reminded him. He was such a dumbass.

Alvin shrugged. "I don't know about the bathrooms though. There's gotta be somewhere better, and thanks to my connections at the front desk, I'm sure I'll find something."

Brittany's icy blue eyes narrowed. "Connections?"

"They just changed shifts and the front desk, and the girl working it now loves me," he said with a cocky grin. "I mean, come on, I'm Alvin Seville."

Brittany rolled her eyes.

"Oh come on, Brittany." He stopped writing and gave her that smile that most girls found charming. "I know you love me. You've even said so."

Brittany gaped at him. "Excuse me? I don't think so."

"Sure you have," Alvin insisted. "Remember when you were recording _Stand by Your Man_ with Tammy Wynette? You told her that you loved me."

"Well that was a _very_ long time ago," Brittany said, cringing at the memory. Why had she said that? "And I was _acting_."

"Right." Alvin pushed the brochures to the side, grabbed some clothes from his bag, and headed for the door. "I'm gonna go find that nicer bathroom now."

"Yeah, you do that," Brittany said as Alvin closed the door, leaving her alone in the small, dark room. She stared at the small bed and let out a dramatic sigh. She needed to sleep, but how was she supposed to do that when she was going to be inches away from Alvin? And for all she knew, the last person who slept on this bed was a serial killer or something.

Brittany stood up and stretched. She noticed that Alvin had left his bag open. She noticed something red and rectangular peeking out from the clothes on top of it. She reached down and picked up a red leather journal.

_ALVIN'S LYRICS_ was written on a piece of masking tape._ KEEP OUT!_ was added as well.

Brittany sat on the bed again and stared at the journal. She didn't know Alvin wrote his own songs.

They probably sucked. It wasn't like Alvin was the sharpest tool in the shed.

Brittany opened the first page.

_I SAID KEEP OUT!_ Alvin had scribbled.

She rolled her eyes and turned to the next page.

_SERIOUSLY, KEEP OUT!_

She turned the page again.

_ARE YOU KIDDING? YOU'RE STILL READING? GO AWAY!_

"Ugh!" Brittany shoved the notebook back into Alvin's bag. She could have easily kept skipping pages, but a huge wave of exhaustion hit her and she realized that she didn't care about Alvin's stupid lyrics anymore. She just wanted to sleep.

Trying very hard not to think about the last time the sheets were washed, Brittany climbed under the covers and shut her eyes.

The next the she knew, the door was being slammed. She sat up, her heart beating fast.

Alvin strutted in the room wearing plaid pajama pants and a white t-shirt, his hair damp. He was whistling as he put his dirty clothes in his bag and climbed into the bed next to Brittany.

Brittany just stared. What the hell was going on?

"Where did you shower?" she asked.

"Jen hooked me up with the shower in room 9," Alvin casually explained. "The water gets hot in no time and it's the cleanest bathroom in the building. Oh, and there aren't any spiders either," he added with a smug grin before turning off the lamp by his side of the bed. The orange glow from street lamps shined through the dusty windows.

God, she hated him. She hated him _so_ much. If she didn't feel like she was going to pass out, she would have yelled at him just for being the obnoxious jerk he was.

Brittany laid down and scooted as far away from Alvin as possible.

"If you even _think_ about touching me, I'm going to kill you," Brittany warned.

"Don't flatter yourself," Alvin said with a laugh. "If I'd be touching anyone right now, it'd be Jen at the front desk, not you."

"Yeah, I'm sure the girl who works the night shift at this disgusting motel is quite a catch."

"Better looking than you," Alvin yawned.

"I highly doubt that," Brittany said as she closed her eyes.

If Alvin said anything back, she didn't hear him. Choosing to believe that she got the last word in on their final argument of the day, Brittany fell asleep.

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**Hope you liked it! Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I feel like this chapter kind of goes all over the place, but oh well. At least there's finally some excitement. Enjoy; reviews are always appreciated!**

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"Hey! Wake up!"

Brittany's eyes fluttered open as she struggled to climb out of her deep, dreamless sleep. She expected to see her pretty pink wallpaper and posters of teen idols smiling back at her. Instead she was met by Alvin obnoxiously snapping his fingers right next to her ear.

Reality quickly hit, and she remembered that she was travelling with Alvin to God-knows-where, USA.

Brittany angrily slapped his hand away. She couldn't believe how rude he was! Okay, maybe she could...

"Let's go!" Alvin demanded. "We don't have time to just lay around! What if Dave is driving around looking for us? We need to get out of here."

"Well maybe if you would have taken us to a different state…" Brittany yawned.

Alvin frowned. "Look, I don't have time to chat about this. Just get up, okay?" Then he left the room, probably to get ready in his special bathroom in the other room.

Brittany forced herself out of bed and took a quick shower (she didn't care how much better the bathroom Alvin used last night was; she was not going to copy him.). She carefully applied her makeup and put on an adorable pink sundress and tied a matching ribbon in her ponytail. She decided that no matter how miserable she felt on this trip, she was not going to look like a careless slob.

Brittany was buckling her white sandals when Alvin came back, his hair damp.

"Took you long enough," Brittany observed. "I thought that_ I_ spent forever in the bathroom."

"I don't like to rush when I have a nice, warm, spider-free shower," Alvin replied with a smirk.

Brittany rolled her eyes. "So where are we headed?" she wanted to know.

"East," Alvin said, shoving his belongings in his suitcase.

"Could you be a little more specific?" Brittany asked impatiently.

Alvin shrugged. "We could go to Vegas."

Brittany sighed dramatically. "Vegas is in southern Nevada, you idiot. We'd basically have to turn around the way we came."

"I knew that!" Alvin said, rolling his eyes. "I was, uh, thinking we could go back and see if there were any good performing opportunities we missed."

"You'd better be kidding," Brittany muttered. She caught her reflection in the TV set and admired her perfectly long, dark eyelashes.

"I'm just going to drive east," Alvin declared. "We're just going to go where the wind takes us."

"Stop trying to sound all deep and shit," Brittany snapped. "You're not cool."

Alvin just chuckled. "So many people beg to differ with that statement."

"Trust me," Brittany said in the nastiest tone she could muster, "they don't."

"They do," Alvin corrected. "Pack up your stuff and meet me in the car."

"I'm already packed. Everything is still in my suitcase because there's no way I was letting any of my things touch anything in this disgusting room. And they don't," she added.

"Okay, fine," Alvin said. He zipped up his bag and started to head out of the room. He looked back at Brittany and smiled. "And they do."

"No, they don't," Brittany said, picking up her own things and following Alvin outside. "The only one who thinks you're cool is you and only you."

"Tell that to my millions of adoring fans." Alvin locked up the door. He suddenly tossed her the car keys, which she barely caught. "You can get in the car while I check us out."

Brittany blinked. For the first time, he actually trusted her with the keys. "Okay," she agreed, and made her way to the car.

After Alvin checked out, they got an unappetizing breakfast courtesy of a McDonald's drive through and hit the road again, this time with the top of the car down. Brittany was thankful she had worn her hair up.

They drove for a few hours with little communication. They had settled into a comfortable silence, just listening to the radio; whenever a station would start to fade, Alvin would just wordlessly turn the dial until he hit one that came in clearly. Brittany was delighted that he wasn't annoyingly singing along with every song, and realized it was probably because he was finally tired. Alvin was the most energetic person she knew, but driving aimlessly for hours straight would take its toll on anyone. And while Brittany slept hard last night, she had a feeling that Alvin didn't, if the dark circles under his eyes were any indication.

Whatever. Brittany wasn't going to think about it. It was none of her business, and she intended to keep it that way. For real this time.

But she was bored. And nosy. So maybe she could make it her business, just for a little while.

"So how did you sleep last night?" Brittany asked, having to raise her voice above the music and wind.

Alvin blinked a few times, as if he was surprised she was talking to him. "Not bad."

"Really?" Brittany propped her feet up on the dash. "Doesn't seem like it."

Alvin pushed his Ray Bans further up his nose. "Okay, fine," he admitted. "I didn't sleep that great. You're not the only one who has a lot on their mind."

"Oh please," Brittany muttered, rolling her eyes. "Your problems pale in comparison to mine."

Alvin frowned. "What did you say?" he yelled. It was almost too loud to have a conversation.

"Nothing," Brittany shouted back, realizing that she almost spilled the beans about everything.

They kept driving until the sky started to turn dark blue. Brittany just sat back and tried to enjoy the wind on her face, trying her best to ignore the fact that it was starting to really mess up her hair, despite the ponytail. They had just passed a big sign welcoming them to Utah when she caught her reflection in one of the side mirrors and cringed at her wispy hairs coming undone from her ribbon. She couldn't ignore it anymore.

"Hey, let's put the top back on," Brittany said, smoothing her hair down as much as possible.

"Hey, let's not," Alvin replied.

Brittany's hands turned to fists, but she tried to keep her voice calm. "We've been driving all day with the top down. It was fun for a while, but the wind is starting to mess up my hair and make my ears hurt. Please it's getting late and it's really cold. Can we please put it back up?"

Alvin tilted his head to the side, as if he was thinking about it. "Nah," he finally said. "I like it down."

"I'm serious, Alvin," Brittany said through clenched teeth. Screw the calmness thing. "Put it up!"

"No!" Alvin yelled.

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

Then they heard a siren wailing behind them. Brittany turned and saw a police car behind them, red and blue lights flashing. A groan escaped Brittany's throat and she heard Alvin curse beside her. She peeked at the speedometer. Alvin was going almost 20 miles over the speed limit.

"Way to go," Brittany said when she turned around. "Nice job, Alvin."

Alvin didn't answer. He slowed down, but didn't stop the car.

"What are you doing?" Brittany asked. "Pull over!"

Alvin chewed his lip and stared at the rearview mirror. It was like he was debating whether to stop or not.

"Just pull over already!" Brittany yelled. What was going through that stupid little mind of his?

A few nerve-racking seconds went by before Alvin stopped the car on the shoulder of the road. Brittany let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

"What the hell was that?" Brittany demanded. The police car had rolled to a stop behind them.

"We don't have time for this!" Alvin hissed. "Plus we'll get a fine that we can't afford! And they'll get all the information off my driver's license and Dave might figure out that we're-"

"God," Brittany interrupted, rolling her eyes. Was Alvin always this paranoid? "What a drama queen."

Alvin glared at her over his sunglasses, which he was still wearing despite the fact that it was dark outside. "I don't think you realize the—"

A flashlight shined in both of their eyes. It was held by a bald cop with a pot belly and a thick graying moustache.

"Good evening," he said in a not-so-friendly voice.

"Hello officer…" Alvin's eyes dropped to the name stitched to man's uniform. "Walters. How are you on this lovely night?" Any trace of worry Brittany had seen on his face a few seconds before was completely gone. He looked as confident and carefree as ever.

"Did you notice how fast you were driving?" Officer Walters asked, ignoring Alvin's question.

Alvin took off his shades and blinked innocently. "Uh, no."

"You're going seventy-three in a fifty-five zone," the policeman said. He didn't seem effected by Alvin's charm in the slightest.

"Oh?" Alvin said, pretending to be surprised. "I had no idea! Well, sir, there's a good reason for my speed."

_There is?_ Brittany frowned.

"There is?" Officer Walters asked.

"Uh, yeah," Alvin said. "You see… my _girlfriend _here," he pointed to Brittany, who could barely hide the horror on her face, "is pregnant and she thought she was going into labor."

"_Excuse_ me?" Brittany yelped.

Officer Walters frowned at Brittany's flat belly.

"She doesn't look pregnant to me," he observed.

"Duh!" Brittany blurted.

"Chipmunks don't really show their pregnancy," Alvin explained with a laugh that Brittany thought sounded nervous.

Walters shook his head and sighed. "Look, I'm not buying it, kid. I need to see your license and registration."

Alvin sighed and faced forward. He didn't reach for his wallet or the registration he kept in the console. He just stared hard at the wide, rural road ahead of him.

"License and registration," the cop repeated, firmer this time.

Alvin didn't budge.

"_Alvin_," Brittany whispered urgently. "Give him the license and registration."

"Now!" Officer Walters demanded.

Suddenly, Alvin turned back to the cop and squinted in the distance.

"Hey, what's that?" he asked, pointing. Brittany followed his gaze, but didn't see anything significant.

"What?"

As soon as Officer Walters turned to look, Alvin slammed on the accelerator. The tires squealed against the dirt covered shoulder of the road before the car bolted.

Brittany screamed while Alvin was laughing, saying something about how he couldn't believe that the cop had fallen for that trick. Brittany's heart hammered in her chest as she looked behind them to see a furious, bumbling Officer Walters scrambling into his car.

"OH MY GOD!"Brittany shrieked, gripping her leather seat for dear life as they zoomed at an insane speed down the dark road. "WHAT THE HELL, ALVIN?"

"Relax!" Alvin yelled over the wind, laughing like the maniac he was. "We're just—oh, shit."

Police sirens sounded behind them and Brittany saw the red and blue lights in the rearview mirror. Their car sped down the road, coming up on another vehicle, which Alvin didn't hesitate to pass.

"ALVIN!" Brittany screamed as a pickup truck appeared in the left lane, coming right toward them. "LOOK OUT!"

The truck's horn sounded, but Alvin swerved back in the right lane in the nick of time.

"Alvin!" Brittany wailed, her knuckles turning white from holding on to the seat so hard. And her hair looked worse than ever! "Stop the car! _Please!_"

"Don't worry!" Alvin assured her, making a sharp turn left as they came to a four way stop. "We're losing him!"

"WE'RE GOING TO DIE!" Brittany yelled, as Alvin took another sharp turn, landing them in a thick cornfield. Brittany shrieked as they drove in further, Alvin hitting the breaks hard as soon as they were completely covered by plants. He slapped a hand over Brittany's mouth.

"Shut up!" he hissed, turning off the headlights.

The two sat there in silence as they heard the police car whiz by. As soon as the high-pitched sirens faded away and the flashing lights were no more, Brittany started slapping the idiot next to her.

"YOU'RE! SO! FUCKING! STUPID!" she yelled, hitting him with each word. "Don't you _ever _do that again!"

"Hey! Stop!" Alvin put up his hands, trying to push Brittany's away. But Brittany kept swinging. "Knock it off!" Finally he was able to grab both her wrists and pull them off of him. "You're crazy!"

"OH!" Brittany actually laughed. "I'M the crazy one? EXCUSE ME? But I didn't just have a high speed chase with a cop over a little speeding ticket! I'm not the one who almost got us _killed!_ But yeah! I'M THE CRAZY ONE!"

She ripped her arms away from Alvin's grip and turned away. Her whole body was shaking. Her face felt wet, and she realized they were tears.

Alvin must have noticed too. "Are you crying?"

"No!" she snapped, wiping her face. "The wind just burnt my eyes a little, that's all."

"Oh, okay," Alvin said, probably actually believing her. He sighed and looked pleased with himself. Brittany wanted nothing more than to punch his smug little face. "Man, that was _so_ badass! I wish the guys at school could have seen that!" He leaned back in the seat, and that stupid smile of his just widened. "That was probably the coolest thing I've ever done! And I've done _a lot_ of cool things."

Brittany wanted to die. Here she was, stuck in a Utah cornfield (she didn't even know Utah _had_ cornfields!) with the dumbest person on the planet who almost got her killed just so he didn't have to pay a stupid speeding ticket.

"You know that all the cops in this town are probably looking for us now," she pointed out, not bothering to hide the anger in her voice.

"True," Alvin agreed. "We need to get far away from here fast." He backed up the car and got on the road, going the opposite way the police car went. "I don't think we should stop anywhere for the night then. We need to get as far away from here as possible."

Brittany just nodded, only half listening. She suddenly felt extremely tired.

"Alvin," she croaked. Her throat hurt from screaming so much. "Can we please put the top on the car?"

Alvin looked at her, and Brittany couldn't be sure since it was so dark, but she thought she saw a hint of sympathy pass through his face. "Yeah, sure," he agreed, pressing the button that made the hood cover the car. "You know, all you had to do was say please."

"Whatever," Brittany muttered.

"You know, you say 'whatever' a lot."

Brittany narrowed her eyes at him. Where they really going to get into this now, after all he had put her through in the last twenty minutes?

"You do too," she pointed out.

"Not as much as you," Alvin said. "I mean, you should start thinking of more comebacks."

"You're an asshole and I hate you."

"That was weak."

"I don't care."

Alvin said something else, but Brittany ignored him. She was too tired. She was tired of sitting in this stupid car. She was tired of driving for miles and not getting anywhere. She was tired of being bored all the time. But most of all, she was just tired of Alvin. Especially after this stunt he pulled tonight.

Brittany stared at her reflection in the dark window. She looked sad and exhausted; very un-Brittany. She reminded herself that she could do this. She wasn't going to get Alvin get to her. She was too strong for that.

Brittany's breathing slowed and her eyelids started to feel too heavy to keep open. She felt something drape over her. The material made a swish sound when she moved, and she realized it was Alvin's red and black windbreaker.

Brittany wasn't sure why, but for a split second, that stupid jacket made her feel the most comfortable she'd been on this entire trip. She snuggled deeper into it and allowed herself to fall asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm sorry if this is moving too slow for some of you. It's been 5 chapters and only like 2 days have passed in the story. I just can't bring myself to skip too much; but I'm hoping things pick up soon.**

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, and I hope you continue to do so. Reviews are REALLY important to me, and I especially love when they're specific. So if you have a few minutes, let me know what you think!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_Ahh_, Brittany thought blissfully. _This is the life!_

She stretched her legs out and wiggled her toes before burying them in the sand. The sun felt so warm on her face, and she knew she looked flawless in her oversized sunglasses and bright pink bikini she had bought at the mall on the last day of school last week.

She just _loved_ summertime. The beach, the sun, and, of course, her delicious boyfriend Bart, who had just laid down next to her.

"Hey Brittany," he said with a smile. His teeth were so white that they practically glowed.

Brittany just smiled in response.

"Brittany?" Bart said again. But this time he sounded confused.

"What?" Brittany asked with a frown. What was wrong?

"Brittany!" This time Bart didn't even sound like himself. He sounded more like…

Brittany opened her eyes. Her fluffy beach towel was replaced with a hot leather seat. Her cute swimsuit had transformed into a wrinkled dress. Her sun-kissed face now felt sticky with dried tears and faded make-up. And the beach—that_ glorious_ beach!—had turned into a parking lot.

Alvin was staring at her like she was a crazy person.

"It's about time you woke up," he said, pointing to his wristwatch. It was almost noon. "You kept smiling and sighing and it was freaking me out."

Brittany groaned, wishing more than anything to return to her dream. It had felt _so real_. She could almost still hear the seagulls and smell the coconut-scented sunscreen in the air.

She shifted her weight and noticed a swishing sound. She saw that she was covered with Alvin's windbreaker, and vaguely remembered him putting it on her before she fell asleep. Brittany balled it up and handed it back to him.

"Uh, thanks," she said, feeling awkward when she recalled that random pang of happiness she got when Alvin put it on her.

Alvin shrugged. "You looked cold."

Brittany stretched out her legs and yawned.

"So where are we anyway?" she asked.

Alvin grinned, looking pleased with himself. _Too _pleased.

"We're in Kansas."

Brittany gaped at him. She didn't need to be a geography expert to know they were a long way from where they were last night.

"So you drove all night?" Brittany asked.

Alvin nodded. He was obviously proud of himself. "Sure did. We've been parked here for about an hour." His grin widened, and despite the dark circles under his eyes, he looked excited. "And I have some great news."

"What's that?" Brittany sighed. She had a feeling that Alvin's idea of "great news" didn't match her own.

"I found a place to sing tonight," he boasted. He pointed to the building across the street: The Lounge. According to the sign, tonight was amateur night.

"Wow, what a clever name for a lounge," Brittany muttered.

"Obviously I'm not an amateur," Alvin said quickly. "But it's not like I can pass this up, you know?"

"Uh huh," was Brittany's response. She was barely paying attention to him; she was trying to figure out how Alvin was functioning on almost no sleep. "So what are we supposed to do all day until this place opens? And it better involve a place with a shower."

"We passed a motel on the way here," he replied. "It's down the road. I'm going to get some rest before I have to perform, so you'll have to be quiet."

Brittany frowned. "So I'm just supposed to sit there while you sleep all afternoon? I don't think so."

"Not all of us got to sleep all night," Alvin reminded her as he turned the car on.

"We_ both_ could have slept last night if _someone_ didn't have to run from the police!" Brittany fired back.

To her surprise, Alvin didn't say anything as they made their way out of the parking lot and on to the road. After a few seconds he sighed and said, "About what happened the other night…"

"Don't try to defend what you did!" Brittany snapped. "You could have gotten us killed! Or, more importantly, you could have gotten _me_ killed!"

"I'm sorry, okay?" Alvin blurted. He rolled his eyes. "Look, I thought about it when I was driving all night, and yeah, maybe I could have handled it differently. I didn't mean to make you freak out and_ cry_."

Brittany just blinked. He was actually apologizing to her? She decided to blame it on his lack of sleep. He obviously wasn't thinking clearly.

"Well thanks for apologizing," she muttered. "And I wasn't crying, by the way."

"Yeah, right," Alvin said. He looked at her and gave her that famous cocky grin of his. "But you have to admit that it was pretty badass, right?"

Brittany just stared at him. "You can't be serious for one second, can you?"

"Guess not," he admitted.

Minutes later, they arrived at the motel, which was thankfully a little nicer than the one they had stayed at the night before. Brittany hurried into the bathroom to take a shower, and when she came out, Alvin was passed out on the bed. He hadn't even bothered changing out of his clothes or getting under the blankets.

Brittany got dressed and prepared to leave the room for a while. She was by no means an outdoors person, but she was craving some fresh air. The Chipette put her room key in her purse and made her way outside. It felt so nice to finally be alone. She definitely needed some quality time away from Alvin. She deserved it.

The Chipette walked up the street a few blocks, occasionally stopping to look inside a shop window. It didn't take her long to decide that this town was a dud. There was _nothing_ in any of the clothing stores that caught Brittany's eye.

After a while, she passed an ice cream truck on the side of the road. There were two little girls ordering chocolate cones; one was a short, smiley blonde, the other a willowy brunette with glasses. Brittany was instantly reminded of Eleanor and Jeanette, and it dawned on her that she had promised to call home in the note she had written before she left. She was sure they missed her terribly by now; who wouldn't?

It didn't take her long to find a payphone. She put some coins inside and dialed her home phone number. She hoped Jeanette answered; it would be a lot easier explaining things to her.

Brittany squeezed her eyes shut as the phone rang.

_Please be Jeanette, please be Jeanette, please be Jeanette… _

"Hello?"

_Damn it!_ It was her blonder, much bolder sibling.

"Hello?" Eleanor repeated. "Is anyone there?"

Brittany cleared her throat. She could do this.

"Um, yeah," she said casually. "It's me."

Silence.

"_Brittany?"_ Eleanor said in awe after a few long seconds ticked by.

"Yeah," she confirmed.

"Oh my God!" Eleanor screeched. Brittany cringed and held the phone away from her ear. "Are you okay? Where are you? What are you—"

"Relax!" Brittany snapped. "I'm fine! God, take a pill!"

"_Take a pill?"_ Eleanor repeated angrily. "Well excuse me for worrying about my sister after she runs away without warning!"

"I prefer the term 'left town'," Brittany said. "Run away" sounded so juvenile, as if she was a pet or a small child.

"I don't really care what you call it!" Eleanor yelled. "We've been really worried about you, Brittany!" She paused, and then blew out a long sigh. "Is this about Bart? We found out what happened with you two and Missy the other night."

Brittany gripped the phone even harder.

_Great_, she thought. _So that means everyone is talking about it._

"I'm really sorry about what happened, Britt." There was obviously a "but" coming. Brittany could feel it. "But I wish you would have just talked to me or Jeanette about it before just running off."

"I did what I had to do," Brittany said confidentially. "I just needed a change of scenery."

"Fine," Eleanor sighed, seemingly too exhausted to push the issue any further… for now. "So where are you?"

Brittany chewed her lower lip. She thought about how Alvin had a high speed chase with a police officer last night to avoid having Dave find out where he was.

"I can't tell you where I am," Brittany slowly decided.

"What? Why not?"

"I just can't! But don't worry, I'm perfectly fine."

Eleanor sighed yet again. "Okay, well at least answer me this: Is Alvin with you?"

"He is," she confirmed. There was no use in denying that. Brittany was sure that everyone had figured that out by now. She just hoped they didn't get the wrong idea. It's not like they had _planned _this or anything; it's not like they were friends or, even worse, lovers who wanted to go on some bizarre romantic adventure or anything. Brittany almost gagged simply at the thought.

"Okay, good," Eleanor said before Brittany could tell her that running off with Alvin was strictly business, nothing more. "That's what we thought. I need you to stay on the line when we get Dave."

Brittany gasped as she listened to Eleanor telling someone (probably Jeanette) to get Alvin's father. "Wait! You can't!"

"Brittany," Eleanor said firmly, "Dave asked us to get him if you or Alvin called us. He's been worried sick. Alvin didn't leave him a note or anything; he thought something really bad could have happened to him."

Brittany frowned. Alvin didn't even leave a note?

"Well nothing bad happened," Brittany said quickly. She couldn't talk to Dave! She needed to keep Alvin's trust; and besides, if Dave knew where they were, this whole thing would be over and she'd have to go back home and be miserable for the next three months. "Trust me, Eleanor; He's his usual cocky, annoying self! He's fine!"

"I believe you," Eleanor said. "But Dave will want to talk to you."

"I can't talk to him!" Brittany cried.

"Why not?" her sister asked, obviously annoyed.

Brittany stomped her foot like a toddler. "I just _can't_, okay?"

"He's on his way over," Eleanor said, ignoring her protest. "Just talk to him for a few minutes. You have to Brittany; he's a mess."

"I _can't_, Ellie!"

"Yes you can!" her sister countered.

"Look," Brittany said, after taking a deep breath. "Just tell Dave that Alvin and I are safe and that we're doing just fine. He doesn't need to worry. No one does. I have to go."

"Brittany Miller!" Eleanor sounded more like a mom than ever. "Don't you dare hang up this phone!"

"And people say_ I'm_ the drama queen in the family," Brittany sighed. "Bye, sis!"

She slammed the phone back into its cradle before she could change her mind. She tried to ignore that little twinge of guilt starting in the pit of her stomach.

"I did the right thing," she told herself. "If I would have talked to Dave, I could have given us away without even knowing it, and then I'd have to spend all summer hearing about how Bart cheated on me with that little tramp!" She took a deep breath. "They know we're okay, and that's all that matters. That's all they really wanted to know, right? They're probably just happy that I called in the first place. And it's not like I could—"

Brittany paused. She felt someone's eyes watching her. She looked down to see the two little girls she had seen earlier staring at her with wide eyes. Their ice cream was running down their cones and on to their hands as the gaped at the Chipette who was just talking to herself.

"Take a picture!" Brittany snapped before storming off. "It'll last longer."

After spending the rest of the afternoon trying to convince herself that she had done the right thing, she headed back to the motel after a quick dinner at some buffet. When she walked in, Alvin was combing his hair in the mirror.

Brittany studied her companion as she stood by the door. Alvin was wearing black trousers and a crisp linen shirt. He must have just gotten out of the shower; Brittany could smell soap and a hint of cologne from the other side of the room. His eyes were bright and full of excitement, just like when they were kids. He actually looked sort of… cute.

"Do you want my autograph or something?" Alvin's reflection smirked at her.

"As if," Brittany snarled, trying her best to look disgusted. It wasn't hard, considering that she had just thought Alvin looked _cute_. Ick. "Then I'd just have something else to remind me of you."

"Who wouldn't want that?" Alvin asked.

"A lot more people than you'd think," Brittany answered. She looked at the clock. She supposed she ought to get ready to go to The Lounge. She wasn't going because she wanted to see Alvin sing; she wanted to go because it would give her a chance to dress up and go somewhere. Maybe she'd find some cute guys to flirt with to get her mind off of Bart.

"So what did you do all day?" Alvin fluffed up his hair in the mirror like a girl in the high school bathroom would.

Brittany pursed her lips. Should she tell him that she called home? It's not like she told anyone where they were or anything.

But Alvin was unpredictable. He might be furious that she had called. And as much as she wanted to pretend that she didn't care what Alvin thought, she knew she couldn't lose his trust. He was her ride; her ticket out of town. She wasn't about to throw that away. Not after everything she had gone through.

"I didn't really do anything," Brittany finally said. She started going through her suitcase to pick out an outfit. "There's nothing to do around here."

"I'm sure that_ I_ would have found something fun to do," Alvin boasted.

"Maybe something illegal," Brittany deadpanned. She grinned when she pulled out her favorite little black dress. Perfect!

"Breaking the rules to have some fun isn't a bad thing," the cocky Chipmunks told her.

Brittany stared at him in disbelief. "Do you _hear_ yourself? You sound like a 10-year-old!"

"And you sound like a 40-year-old," Alvin replied without missing a beat. "So I guess we balance each other out."

"Whatever," Brittany huffed.

"There you go with the 'whatever' again," he smirked.

"There you go with being annoying again."

His smirk only got smugger. "You know you like me."

"Whatev—" She paused. That was close. "You wish," she spat before slamming the bathroom door to get ready, doing her best to ignore his laughing on the other side of the door. She most certainly _did not_ like that selfish, arrogant, rude jerk.

**…**

About an hour later, they found themselves in the crowded parking lot next to The Lounge. Brittany looked and felt beautiful in her short black dress that hugged every curve perfectly. Her caramel-colored hair had been swept into a pretty French twist, and she loved the delicate clicking sound her heels made when she walked. She admired her reflection in her compact mirror. She grinned at her smoky eyes and cherry colored lips. Brittany was the definition of class tonight.

"Would you stop staring at yourself?" Alvin asked impatiently.

"It's hard not to admire perfection," was her airy response.

"Right," Alvin agreed. "Which is why I'm wondering why you're looking at yourself instead of me."

Brittany just rolled her eyes. She wasn't going to let him bring her down tonight. She was way too good for that.

"You have to be over 21 to get into this place," Alvin announced, holding up a fake I.D. with his photo on it. He smirked. "So I guess you're screwed."

"Wow, Alvin," Brittany cooed, her sweet voice dripping with sarcasm. "How nice of you to tell me that after I had gotten all dressed up and everything!"

Alvin shrugged. "Must have slipped my mind."

_What an asshole_, Brittany thought.

Fortunately, she didn't need to worry. She unzipped her clutched, and pulled out a fake I.D. of her own.

"Good thing I came prepared." She practically shoved the card in Alvin's face.

Alvin blinked. "Wow. Little Miss Perfect has a fake I.D. Who would have thought?"

Brittany flashed a haughty smile.

"Is that why you didn't bring any money on this trip?" Alvin wondered. "You spent it all on this I.D.?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You'll be lucky if I don't boo you while you're onstage tonight."

Alvin just grinned. "I won't hear those boos over the roaring applause from the crowd, so I'm not worried."

They made their way to the front door. She heard Alvin take a deep breath beside her.

"This is it," he said excitedly.

"Yeah," was Brittany's equally excited response. But she wasn't happy for the same reasons Alvin was. She was just happy to be dressed up and knowing that there was potential to actually have some fun tonight. What Alvin did on stage was none of her concern. Tonight was all about her. "This is it."


End file.
